


egg moon

by eggtheria



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, eggtheria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggtheria/pseuds/eggtheria
Summary: G-Ra has the perfect life. Except she's a were-egg, and taken, and one day she meets someone she can't ignore.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	egg moon

When your fingers touch a boiled egg, they come back coated in slime. It’s just a fact of life. What else is a fact of life? Oh, yeah, you’re an eggwolf.

When the sky bubbles up like pasta-filled water, and spills the horizon with shades of orange and violet, the moon coats over with the same slime- it shells itself over, like a ginormous egg.

Probably because the moon _is_ an egg, but yeah.

Most people stay in their homes and marvel at the beauty of the moon as it cracks down the middle, as it emerges with a pale white sheen that lights the world with a pallor.

You? You hide from your wives in your basement and feel nauseous. You sprout a shell; you sprout claws, too, and little chicken legs. You can never remember much of what happens on full moons, except whenever you wake up, there’s egg yolk on the stone walls and someone else is dead.

Every time you see a carton of eggs in the grocery store, you turn away and take deep, gasping breaths until the feeling goes away. It’s just a fact of life.

Except one night, after you transform, your vision goes fuzzy and clear and you’re lying on the ground and there’s a catgirl looking down at you.

“Here’s another one, Entrapta,” she calls to someone in the distance. Her arm is covered with eggshell, but only her arm. Squinting past her, you see that the moon is still a boiled egg, pale and luminous.

“H-how…?” You trail off, throat hoarse.

“A cure,” she says, not surprised that you’ve woken. “My friend Entrapta developed it. Can’t have people dying every full moon.”

“Your arm,” you note. It’s still shelled over.

She blinks down at it, like she’s just noticed, and then pops a glowing green flask off her belt. Uncorking it, she chugs it down. You blink. Okay, maybe a little weird that you find her attractive. Especially since you, being She-Ra and all, have not one but _two_ wives.

“My name’s Catra,” she says with a soft smile. “Let’s get you to the others.”

You meet other were-eggs that night- some with part of their palms still covered in half-shattered eggshell, some with scarred faces that bely a past of pain.

“I feel like I belong here,” you admit to her, at some point.

She gives you a dumb, fanged half-grin and says, “Yeah. You do.”

~

The next full moon, you have the potion with you, but you don’t tell your wives you do. You let them assume that they’re still unsafe with you, that you still have no choice but to transform into the were-egg.

Eve looks at you with concern in her eyes. “You should go down to the basement, G. I’ll get you some food in the morning.”

“Actually,” you say, the lie thick in your throat. “I think I wanna go into the woods tonight. I’ve almost clawed through the basement door.”

“Wild,” says Eggdora, scrolling down. She’s almost halfway through the newest chapter of Anachronism; she probably won’t be distracted by anything you say. “Have fun, G. Kith.”

You reciprocate, of course, but as your fingers turn the metal handle and you step out into the cool night, as you uncork the potion and drink it down, as your arm doesn’t shell up but stays perfectly human, all you can think about is the girl you met last night.

She greets you outside the Were-egg hideout with a smirk. “Back for more, G-Ra?”

You’re a little busy staring at her eyes. They’re two different colors, blue and yellow. It’s an odd color combination, but it works on her.

Suddenly aware that you’ve put yourselves into an awkward silence, you clear your throat and say, “Your eyes. They’re, uh, heterosexual.”

Her nose wrinkles. “You mean heterochromatic?”

“YEAH,” you exclaim, a blush rising on your face. “Sorry, heterochromatic.”

She laughs. “The only hetero thing about me, to be honest.”

You shouldn’t be blushing this much. You have two wives at home. But tonight, and for all the full egg nights that follow after that, you find your thoughts unoccupied by Eve, or by Eggdora, and increasingly by Catra, the were-Egg.

One night, you can’t help it. You lean in and kiss her.

Eve, unbeknownst to you, has followed you, suspicious of your activities. She gasps audibly, and when you turn to her, there’s tears of betrayal in her eyes.

“Eve, it’s not what it-”

But she’s gone, disappeared into the thick foliage.


End file.
